


Chemistry From Your Company

by wardrobespierre



Series: Trap You In A Song [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE HERE FOR THIS??, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, COURFEYRAC IS A BRATTY LITTLE MASOCHIST, Courferre Week, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, TWO THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED WORDS OF SHAMELESS FILTH RIGHT HERE, dom!Ferre, sub!courf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:23:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wardrobespierre/pseuds/wardrobespierre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the middle of chapter 3 of Trap You in a Song; Combeferre and Courfeyrac pass the time while Enjolras goes out for his walk. </p><p>or alternatively I LOVE THIS SHIP AND I'M FUCKING PERVERTED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chemistry From Your Company

**Author's Note:**

> HEY DID YOU SEE THE BIG TAG THAT SAID 'DADDY KINK' UP THERE?? YEAH THAT'S A THING. We've got a whole lot of wholly consensual BDSM themes in here and a literal fucktonne of dirty talk so if it's not your thing, or if you're not 18 yet, you should probably just go find something else to read pls <3
> 
> shoutout to Mags who puts bad bad thoughts in my head ALL THE TIME
> 
> HEYYYYYYY IT'S MY SECOND SMUT EVER PLS ENJOY!!!

When Enjolras had swept out of the apartment, Courfeyrac put his mug down on the coffee table and snuggled against his boyfriend. “Enjolras sure is hung up on that Grantaire dude, huh?”

“Hmmm.” Combeferre hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Didn’t you used to hate me, too?” Courfeyrac asked cheekily, turning to rest his head in Combeferre’s lap, grinning up at him. “Something about me being ‘obnoxious’...?”

“I never hated you,” Combeferre protested, tangling his fingers in Courf’s hair. “You were just so loud, and... distracting...” his smile turned sly and he gave the smaller man’s hair a little tug. Courfeyrac’s eyes fluttered closed. 

“That was your fault,” he replied, his voice breathy. “I get chatty when I’m n-nervous-” he broke off with a little gasp when Combeferre’s fingernails scraped over his scalp.

“You’re chatty all the time.” Combeferre smiled at the color rising in Courf’s cheeks. “Lucky I know how to shut you up.” He trailed the fingers of his free hand up the line of Courfeyrac’s throat, along his jaw to brush over his lips, moving them away when Courf moved to kiss his fingertips. Courfeyrac groaned.

“‘Ferre...”

“Yes?”

“Please.”

Combeferre tightened his grip on his hair. “Enjolras won’t be out long.”

“Then maybe you should _stop fucking teasing and get on with it.”_

Combeferre chuckled low in his throat, moving his hand lower to trace the skin over the waistband of his boyfriend’s jeans. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you want something?”

Courfeyrac made a noise somewhere between a grumble and a whimper, sitting up and wriggling to sit on Combeferre’s lap and press kisses where his jawline met his earlobe. Combeferre hissed slightly and gripped the back of his neck when Courfeyrac murmured in his ear. “I want you to fuck me, _Daddy.”_

He caught Courfeyrac’s hand where it was wandering to the hem of his shirt. “Ask nicely,” he growled.

“Please. Please fuck me, Daddy, please.”

“That’s my good boy,” Combeferre murmured, and turned his head to catch Courfeyrac’s lips in a messy, filthy kiss that left them both breathless. He deftly popped the button on Courfeyrac’s jeans and slipped his hand inside to cup his rapidly hardening cock through his briefs, smiling when his boyfriend moaned against his lips. “Bedroom, quick, off you go.”

Combeferre could have laughed aloud at the way Courfeyrac scrambled off his lap and down the hall, shucking off his jeans and t-shirt on the way and leaving them scattered on the floor. He followed, deliberately slowly, unbuttoning his own shirt as he went, and paused in the doorway to admire the man kneeling at the foot of the bed, now divested of underwear as well. His eyes were wide and eager and he raised his hands to beckon Combeferre to him, his cock flushed pink and curving up towards his belly. 

Combeferre crossed the room until he stood in front of Courfeyrac, stopping him when he immediately reached for his belt buckle. “Wait,” he said sharply, gripping his hair again and tilting his head back, baring his throat as his hands dropped back onto his knees. Courfeyrac whined pitifully as Combeferre traced long fingers over his cheekbones, jawline, and lips. “Beautiful,” he whispered, as Courfeyrac caught his thumb in his mouth and sucked. “Tell me what you want.”

“Want to suck you,” Courfeyrac said breathlessly, releasing his thumb. 

“Beg.”

“ _Please.”_ Courfeyrac pressed his face against Combeferre’s crotch, whining and nuzzling at him through the denim. “Please let me suck your prick, Daddy, please, please, _please-”_

Combeferre made deft work of his buckle and buttons, fisting a hand in Courfeyrac’s hair and holding him in place as he drew his cock out. He chuckled as the smaller man struggled against his grip, reaching with his tongue to lap at the tip. “So _eager._ ”

“Please,” Courfeyrac gasped again, and Combeferre growled. 

“Greedy little slut.” He moved his hand to the back of Courfeyrac’s neck, drawing him forward and letting out a shaky breath when Courfeyrac swallowed him down without hesitation. “ _Oh,_ fuck, that’s it -” 

Combeferre and Courfeyrac had been together for three years now, and Combeferre scarcely went a day without thanking the gods that his boyfriend had no gag reflex and a _ridiculous_ sex drive. Back in the early days of his friendship with Courfeyrac and Enjolras, the three of them had gone on a road trip to a seaside town four hours drive away, and were delighted to discover a little carnival there. Halfway through the day, Courfeyrac settled an argument about who was going to queue for tickets to the next ride by buying a long, rainbow-colored pulled-taffy lollipop, announcing; “Right, look at me, both of you - first to look away lines up-” and promptly set about fellating the candy. Both Enjolras and Combeferre had stared open-mouthed for a moment, watching their friend lick up and down it’s length before swirling his tongue around the end, and then looking up at them both through his lashes as he took it in his mouth. When his lips closed around the stick at the base, Enjolras had spluttered and squawked “What the _fuck-”_ and then stood when Courfeyrac started to pull off slowly, hollowing his cheeks obscenely. He stalked off towards the queue, cheeks flaming red and shaking his head as if to clear it, and Courfeyrac turned to look at Combeferre, who hadn’t looked away for a second, and pulled the candy out of his mouth with a little _pop._ Combeferre had realized that his face was burning and he was almost painfully hard at about the same moment that Courfeyrac grinned and asked, “Enjoying the show, nerd?”  
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a shameless tease?” Combeferre had asked, his voice oddly calm, if a little hoarse, and Courfeyrac had put the candy in his mouth again, continuing with a performance that would have made a seasoned porn star proud and beginning a year-long tradition of teasing, flirting and building tension to breaking point - and when Combeferre had finally felt those lips around his dick that rainy night in Courfeyrac’s car, it had been everything he’d dreamed it would be and more, and had only gotten better since. 

Combeferre pulled Courfeyrac off his cock by his hair before he could be brought too close to the edge, dragging him roughly to his feet and then shoving him face-down on the bed. 

“You left your clothes on the floor,” he said, his voice cold to his own ears while his boyfriend shivered and looked up at him apprehensively. “What have I told you about leaving the house in a mess?”

Courfeyrac’s lips quirked in a smile before he could stop himself. Combeferre raised his eyebrows. “Something funny?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Do you need me to wipe that smirk off your face?”

Courfeyrac actually _grinned_ now, and grabbed the flat-backed hairbrush that sat on the bedside table, handing it to Combeferre and getting a small smile in return.

“Good.” Combeferre sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbed Courfeyrac’s hair again and dragged him until he was draped across his lap. “What’s the safeword, Courf?”

“Fascism,” Courfeyrac said impatiently, arching his back and raising his arse. “Come _on-”_

The first _smack_ of the brush against his skin made Courfeyrac yelp and press his face into the sheets. 

“You are a fucking brat,” Combeferre hissed, swatting his boyfriend’s backside again. “So desperate, so fucking _greedy-” - smack - “_ \- you can’t even wait a few hours to be fucked -” - _smack-_ “- it would serve you right if Enjolras came back now, and saw what a dirty little slut you are.” _Smack._ Courfeyrac gasped and choked on a giggle. Combeferre grabbed his hair, raising his face off the sheets. “You want to tell me what’s so fucking funny?”

“It’s not as if Enjolras doesn’t know, Daddy,” Courfeyrac said breathlessly, twisting to shoot Combeferre a cheeky smile. “I have to tell _someone_ how much fun I have with you.”

Combeferre smiled back, despite himself. Of course Enjolras knows. He’s quite sure he isn’t the only one, either, judging by the sly, knowing looks he gets from Jehan, Eponine and Joly whenever Courf shows up with bite-marks on his neck. “Filthy little boy,” he murmured. “Obviously I’m not hitting you hard enough.” He stroked the back of his fingers over the reddened skin, and Courfeyrac shivered. “You’re going to count for me. Miss one, and there’ll be _consequences._ ” He barely gave Courfeyrac a chance to draw breath before bringing the brush down hard and setting a relentless rhythm. Courfeyrac’s voice held steady until number five, when it began to crack - by seven, he was whimpering loudly and rocking his hips against Combeferre’s thigh, desperate for friction. At eleven, he broke.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, please, I’ll be good-”

Combeferre fisted a hand in his curls again, drawing him up to kneel on the bed beside him. “Look at me.”

Courfeyrac’s face was flushed and his lip was trembling; he looked a second away from bursting into tears, and a bead of pre-come was gathering at the end of his cock. Combeferre cupped his face in his hands. “You did so well, baby, I’m so proud of you.” Courfeyrac drew a deep, shaky breath and smiled, and Combeferre leaned forward, claiming the smile in a heated, possessive kiss. “Pretty little thing,” he murmured when he drew back. Courfeyrac whined as he curled his fingers around his shaft, smearing the liquid beading at the slit with his thumb. “I think I’d like to fuck you, now.”

“Yes,” Courfeyrac gasped. “Please fuck me, I want it so bad-”

Combeferre stood, shucking off his jeans and rummaging in the drawer for lube and condoms. “On your knees,” he directed Courfeyrac over his shoulder, and the smaller man obeyed instantly. He stayed stock-still with anticipation when Combeferre knelt behind him, every muscle tensed, until Combeferre ran gentle hands up his sides and leaned over his back to press a kiss to the little sun tattoo at the base of his neck. “Alright, darling?” he murmured, and his boyfriend’s breath on his skin sent a shiver down Courfeyrac’s spine. 

“Yes,” he whispered, turning his head to press his lips to Combeferre’s. “Please. Want you.” He gasped when Combeferre slipped one slick finger inside him, moving slowly in and out, and moaned and arched his back when he added a second. “Please,” he whined when Combeferre scissored his fingers. “Come on. I’m ready.”

Combeferre hummed, straightening up and pressing his hand between Courfeyrac’s shoulder blades, pinning him to the sheets. “I don’t think so.” He pressed a third finger inside and smiled when Courfeyrac tried in vain to rock back on his hand. 

“Fuck, _please,”_ Courfeyrac gasped, but broke off with a cry when Combeferre crooked his fingers inside him, pressing down on the little bundle of nerves he’d been avoiding until now. 

“Shh, baby,” he soothed, circling his fingers inside him, making Courfeyrac twitch and whine embarrassingly loud. “Don’t worry. Daddy’s going to give you what you need.” 

The smaller man almost sobbed when Combeferre withdrew his fingers, fisting his hands in the sheets as Combeferre slipped on the condom and lined up the head of his cock with his entrance. 

“Yes, _yes,_ Daddy _please -_ Ah!!” 

Combeferre growled as he bottomed out, gripping Courfeyrac’s hips hard enough to leave bruises as he forced himself to give him time to adjust. Every primal instinct screamed at him to fuck the boy mercilessly, hold him down and _take,_ and he hissed out a breath through his teeth, trying calm himself, but Courfeyrac rocked back against him impatiently and all was lost. He lurched forward, pinning Courfeyrac with hisbody and sinking his teeth into his shoulder as he drove into him over and over, the sound of his boyfriend’s desperate whimpers and moans spurring him on. 

Courfeyrac had once thought he could never love Combeferre more than when he smiled that little mona-lisa smile and looked at Courf over his glasses, and then he thought he couldn’t love him more than when he was comforting him or one of their more sensitive friends, and then he thought he couldn’t love him more than when he was laughing unreservedly, a rare sight afforded to very few. Before too long, though, he had discovered he was wrong on all three counts; he could never love Combeferre more than when the man was inside him, calm demeanor and schoolteacher sensibilities cast away to leave something raw and savage, a little bit frightening and impossibly thrilling. 

“You’re mine,” Combeferre was growling in his ear, holding his wrists in a vice-like grip. “Say it.”

“Yours,” Courfeyrac gasped. “I’m yours, Daddy, all yours-”

He was flipped onto his back almost before he realised what was happening, Combeferre hooking his ankles over his shoulders and plunging into him again with a groan.

“Want to look at you,” he growled, and Courfeyrac cried brokenly when he wrapped a hand around his aching cock. “Pretty little fucktoy.”

“P-please,” Courfeyrac sobbed, closing his eyes tight as Combeferre pumped him in time with his thrusts, completely overwhelmed and _so close._ “Daddy, fuck, it’s so g-good - I - _ahh -_ I n-need to come, please let me c-come-”

“Look at me.”

Courfeyrac forced his eyes open to meet Combeferre’s, the man’s brown eyes blown almost completely black. Tiny beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, and the muscles in his neck and shoulders rippled and flexed. Courfeyrac felt his toes curl and he gasped, his blood singing in his veins. “ _Please-”_

“Come for me,” Combeferre ordered, feeling his own impending orgasm twisting in his stomach as Courfeyrac writhed desperately, whimpering and splattering his chest and Combeferre’s hand with white. He kept stroking him through it as his insides twitched and fluttered around his cock, murmuring “Good boy, good boy,” over and over like a mantra as Courfeyrac came down, gasping for breath. It was the sight of the smaller man lying beneath him, looking flushed and sated and _wrecked,_ that pushed Combeferre over the edge, and he caught Courfeyrac’s reddened, swollen lips in a kiss, tongue twisting possessively around his as his orgasm crashed though him. Courfeyrac clung to him as he groaned into his mouth, and kept firm hold of him as Combeferre collapsed on top of him, breathing hard and twitching slightly. 

“I love you,” he whispered in his ear, and Combeferre raised himself on his elbow to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“I love you too, Sunshine,” he murmured. They both jumped when the door slammed, looking towards the open bedroom door in horror. 

“Guys?” called Enjolras’s voice from the living room, and then - “Oh, christ, _really?!”_

“It’s okay, we’re done,” Courfeyrac called brightly as Combeferre groaned. 

“Are you decent?”

“No,” Combeferre yelled back at the same time as Courfeyrac giggled and called “Am I ever?”

“Stupid question,” they heard Enjolras mutter. “Okay, I’m going to make tea, I assume you two want some.”

“We love you, Enj!”

“Get _dressed,_ Courf!!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> DON'T TELL MY BOSS I WRITE DIRTY FANFICTION ON MY DAYS OFF O_O
> 
> (give me feedback pretty pretty please i love feedback oh my GOD)
> 
> Edit: apparently it's courferre week??? I DID NOT EVEN REALISE. oh well, lets call this my contribution ^-^


End file.
